


What Happens In Haddonfield, Stays In Haddonfield

by slash-em-up (writeonrice)



Series: Slasher Stories [2]
Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Play, Angry Sex, Bondage, F/M, Femdom, Knifeplay, Michael Myers Needs To Get Laid, Michael is a kinky boy, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pegging, Rough Sex, Sensation Play, Shameless Smut, Stabby Boy, Things get dirty, sometimes Michael talks sometimes he doesn't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-01 17:04:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16769287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeonrice/pseuds/slash-em-up
Summary: Slice of life writings about Michael Myers and his S/O. Archive of ‘Halloween’ prompts, fills, and original ideas from ‘slash-em-up’ on tumblr.





	1. Michael x Reader: Knifeplay

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> Hello! So idk if the request box is open rn, but can i request a KNIFE PLAY with Michael Myers , female reader and of course. NSFW😬

You woke to the feeling of a light pressure running up and down your chest. Slowly, groggily bringing the world around you into focus, the first thing you saw was a huge looming shape sitting on the edge of your bed. The second, was the moonlight playing off the flat edge of a very large knife.

Your breath caught in your throat for a moment, before you recognized the pale white of your boyfriends’ mask in the darkness.

“…Michael…” you whispered, barely daring to break the sacred quiet of the night. 

A flash from some passing headlights outside made Michael’s eyes glow for a moment – turning him into some supernatural beast preparing to devour a young maiden.

The knife paused in its slow passage along your front and caught provocatively underneath the fabric of your night shirt. 

You could feel his powerful gaze on you, waiting for your permission to continue. Now fully awake, you could feel the cold press of metal against your skin. The only thing keeping you from becoming another statistic in the long, long roll-call of Michael Myers body count was the strange affection you had for each other. You were used to the mercurial nature of your man’s moods. He could go from affectionate and doting to rough and uncaring in a span of seconds. One consistent thing throughout your relationship was the close tie you both had between pain and pleasure. 

This showed itself most prominently in your bedroom play. 

There were days when you needed to wear long-sleeved, high-collared shirts to hide the bruises Michael had left on your body. As well as times when he needed to stay in from his ‘work’ after a particularly rough session with your favorite riding crop. Tonight, it seemed like it was your turn to take the punishment. You couldn’t wait. 

Giving him a nod of approval, you felt yourself yanked up as the knife pulled and then cleanly sliced through your thin tee shirt. Baring your breasts to him, you lifted your hands above your head and grasped the metal of your head-board for support.

Already breathing heavily with arousal, Michael ran the tip of his favorite knife down from the top of your collar bone to your hips; making a circuitous path up and over your peaked nipples, drawing thin lines of blood as he went.

You hissed at the sting and gave a quick yelp as his blade flipped impossibly fast in his hand, only to go down, down, down your soft cotton shorts to rest lightly on your mons. He dragged the kitchen knife back and forth through your curly pubic hair. If the knife had been turned sharp-side down, you would be shaved bald down there. 

Another tug and a RIIIPPP sounded as he cut through your shorts. Leaving you bare before his gaze. 

He moved his free hand up to hold your throat and pressed the flat of his blade up between your thighs. You jerked and gasped at the sensation – an animal instinct to protect yourself from danger – this brought you further into his hold on your throat, and you gave a short cough, squirming slightly in his grasp. Your hands came down from the headboard. You ran one hand up to hold his strong bicep for support, the other held onto his wrist. 

You were so wet. It was apparent from the ease with which he was able to rub his knife up and down your sex, gliding like he’d slicked it with lube before coming to you. You knew he hadn’t, and you blushed lightly at the thought. He pulled the knife away from you quickly, giving the inside of your thigh a light kiss from the edge of it. His other hand ripped away from your hold, and your throat - he used it to tug the bottom of his mask up, baring his chin and lips to your gaze. 

You moaned and thrust your hips upwards as you watch him bring the slick knife to his mouth and lick your essence from the flat of it. 

“Please, Michael, please fuck me!” 

You were desperate for him; his midnight teasing bringing out your wanton side. He was clearly affected by the scene as well, and within moments his suit was pushed down, baring him from his broad shoulders to his narrow hips – cock erect and dripping pre-cum – ready to fill you full to bursting.

You attempted to sit up and reach for him, but his hand pushed you back into the mattress. Staying still, you allowed him to maneuver you as he liked – draped across his lap, one leg on either side of his pelvis, hips raised, forcing you into a slight back-bend. 

He rose up on his knees and held your thighs firmly as he slid his member into your slick crevasse. You couldn’t help but cry out and wrap your legs tightly around his back – digging into his muscular ass in an attempt to ground yourself. His powerful thrusts moved you up the bed – each movement in and out hitting you in the perfect spot. 

“YES, Michael, oh God… YES!!”

You enthusiastically thrust your hips to meet his as much as you were able, quickly feeling like you were reaching your first plateau. You screamed and thrashed as you came on his dick, and he stopped for a moment to collect himself as your body flexed around him. 

Picking back up his knife from the side of the mattress, Michael placed it on top of your lips. You gave it a quick kiss and ran your tongue along the edge, loving the low noise Michael made as he saw the blood drip down your chin. 

You gasped as he brought his lips down to meet yours at the same time he returned to his thrusting. His tongue danced with yours, chasing the taste of your blood around your mouth; thick length again hitting that spot that drove you mad.

“Are you close baby?” you gasped up at him.

He jerked his head up and down quickly, mouth open, pink lips wet from your kisses. 

“Come with me Michael, come with me…”

His breath hitched, and it was over. 

His hot seed painted your insides and he collapsed on top of you, shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm. 

You held him close to you as you let the slow wash of your second release overwhelm you.

You recovered faster, and gently played with the hair at the nape of his neck. It’d be time for another trim soon, if he’d let you cut his hair again. You could tell he was coming back around as he began to press soft kisses to your collar bone, sighing happily in your arms.

You moved the knife lying discarded on the mattress over to lay on the nightstand. There would be time to clean that up tomorrow. Right now, you had Michael dozing on your breast, and you were beginning to nod off as well. 

“Love you, Michael.”

You whispered, planting a light kiss on the top of his mask. You pulled up a blanket to cover the two of you, and snuggled back down into your pillow - as you drifted away, you could swear you heard a deep, quiet voice say:

“Love you too…”


	2. Michael x Reader: Haunted House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A haunted house that might be actually haunted... and the ghost is hella horny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a set of Halloween-based prompts. This particular set courtesy of 'monstersmistress' on tumblr.

The Halloween carnival in the town next to Haddonfield made you remember what the season was supposed to be like. There was the smell of cinnamon and pumpkin in the air; children ran around in silly costumes, laughing merrily – and every single adult was trying to scare the crap out of one another in new and exciting ways. 

A small herd of tweens in Disney Princess costumes pushed past you as you slowly meandered through the festival. Enjoying the lively atmosphere and planning out your strategy for the night. The fair boasted one of the most extensive and horrifying haunted houses in the county, and you were eager to test your mettle against it. 

The evening air was chilly, and you’d dressed appropriately in a cozy sweater, corduroy skirt, and thick tights. Short leather booties covered your feet, making appealing crunching noises as you trod through the fallen leaves that scattered across the ground. 

You’d already visited several of the other attractions, and thus far you’d been impressed with the work that had been put into each of them. Someone out there knew their scary stuff. However, when you arrived at the entry-point for the haunted house, you stopped cold. A large plaque posted in front proclaimed: 

‘ENTER THE TERRIFYING DOMAIN OF THE BOOGEYMAN OF HADDONFIELD’ 

If the sign hadn’t tipped you off enough, then a glance up at the constructed façade that eerily imitated the Myers house in Haddonfield would have driven the point home entirely.

“Oh shit…” you whispered to yourself.

You nearly turned around and left, but you’d come this entire way – and you’d promised your boyfriend a play-by-play of the attraction since he was working tonight and couldn’t attend. ‘Damn, it was a good thing you loved that man’ - you thought as you huffed and walked purposefully up to the front door. 

While the outside of the haunted house was a spot-on representation of the Myers house, the first step inside made it painfully clear that the architect had never seen the residence from anywhere other than the sidewalk. The door opened onto a large foyer, with two entrances to separate hallways on either side of a large staircase. 

The interior was fairly standard haunted house faire. Lots of cobwebs, a splatter of fake blood, and a few wafting panels of so-called ‘spooky cloth’. Illumination was provided by a proverbial hoard of lit pillar candles. They sat on every surface – the floor, the window-sills, the stair case…

There was a small group going through the house with you – one couple who kept grabbing onto each other in playful fear, a man who looked to be about your age with a child who was probably eight, and a group of rowdy college boys. 

A sign posted in the entry-way gave another ominous warning:

‘THE HORRIFYING ABODE OF MICHAEL MYERS AWAITS’

‘KEEP COMPLETELY SILENT- LEST THE SHAPE HEAR YOU AND ATTACK’

‘NO FLASH PHOTOGRAPHY PLEASE’

… OK, so that last one kind of ruined it, but the message was mostly clear – you were supposed to keep quiet or something would jump out and grab you. 

As you contemplated this, one of the frat-boys gave a loud yelp as one of his fellows pushed him a bit too close to a candle. 

Almost immediately, a figure emerged from the walls and careened towards the unlucky guy with a high-pitched screech. 

The figure was dressed in a blue jumpsuit and a bleached Captain Kirk mask, making it immediately obvious who this was. Michael Myers dove past the group of yelling young men and disappeared back into the walls. 

Well, this would definitely be an interesting night… 

As each group chose a hallway to follow, you elected to remain close to the frightened younger couple. The fraternity group and father/child duo chose the other path. 

As you cautiously made your way down the hall, you noticed that the walls seemed to be covered in newspaper clippings. Drawing closer, you saw they were all articles written about the Halloween night massacres in Haddonfield.

All of them. 

Every article was from a different year, about a different massacre, all perpetrated by Michael Myers. 

As you stood reading through one of them, you felt a chill run down your leg. You looked down quickly, but saw nothing and shrugged it off. 

The couple slightly ahead of you were getting a bit handsy. The man stroked his hands up and down the hips of his partner, circling gently, but with purpose.

A slight pressure ran up your spine.

You twisted around, but all you saw were more posted articles on the wall.  
Moving away from that spot, you entered what was meant to be the Myers kitchen.

Blood spatter painted the floor, and gruesome items littered the counter. A human foot stuck haphazardly out of a large pot on the stove – though you’d never heard anything about Michael Myers being a cannibal, the overall atmosphere of the room was very effective. 

Both the couple and you walked about the room and took in the gore, still illuminated by flickering candles, until you closed in on the kitchen table.

Written in bold swoops of blood was one word: HIDE

You all heard the noise immediately – a loud, steady THUMP THUMP THUMP of boots on the floor above. As one, you turned to face the staircase leading up to the second floor of the house. You’d assumed that this was meant to lead you to the next area, but it appeared that it was merely another portal for terror. 

Keeping quiet, you all launched into a frantic search for a hiding spot. Opening a dark cupboard under the sink, you estimated that it would be enough space to keep you hidden, and backed yourself in, keeping a small crack of the door open so you could see out. 

As Michael Myers descended the stairs into the kitchen, you were able to get a better look at the infamous Shape of Haddonfield. Standing at 5’10” and just a little paunchy around the middle, Myers was not anything like you’d pictured him to be. 

Giving a quiet sigh of disappointment, you hunkered down to wait until Myers had finished his search of the kitchen.

Resting back on your thighs, your mind was abruptly brought back into sharp focus as you felt an icy form slip through your parted legs and cup at your sex.

Gasping silently, you attempted to turn and see what was behind you, but were unable to do so. The hand – it had to be a hand – grasped at your covered crotch with a firm grip, and one finger broke away from the rest to run sensuously between your clothed labia. A second, equally cold hand crept up from behind and slipped under your sweater to clasp one of your breasts.

You could sense the looming figure behind you, huge, and breathing in heavy bursts like an animal. 

Your nipple pebbled under the chilly attention – and as the figures lower hand scraped over your clit, you burst from underneath the sink like a shot. Terrified beyond belief. 

A low growl sounded from your former hiding place, and gathering all your courage, you yanked back open the doors– to find nothing but blackness. 

Staring in disbelief, you were startled when suddenly a white mask came into your peripheral vision. 

You screamed loudly, jumping away from both the sink and the figure.

Myers gave an unearthly howl and charged at you. 

Dodging quickly, you ran towards the stairs, taking them two at a time. 

Myers stopped at the base and didn’t pursue. Though you didn’t take a moment to consider why.

Skidding into the first room you saw, you locked the door, spun about, and pressed your back to the wall – eyes focused on the door. 

When the touch came this time, it was no longer cold – it burned. 

Small, quick licks of flame touched your thighs, the small of your back, and your neck. They were gone before you could turn, but pressing your own hand to those areas brought away a soft substance… Wax? 

Wonderingly, you quickly wiped off as much as you could, bemoaning the stain on your tights that would probably be permanent. 

You took in the room with a quick glance. This was probably meant to be Michaels room. There was a small child-size bed in one corner – unbelievably (unrealistically?) splattered in what looked like arterial spray. 

Once more, the room was filled to bursting with glowing candles.

‘There are far too many lit candles in here.’ 

Looking around at the fake cobwebs and wafting curtains, it wasn’t a stretch to surmise that this was probably a safety violation on multiple levels…

Your thought was cut off as a powerful shove sent you sprawling onto the floor.

Those same hands you’d been feeling caress your body all night turned you onto your front, but you were able to catch a glimpse of the man before you were pushed to the ground. 

If the Michael Myers of this haunted house was average-sized, then this man was a mountain.

Dressed in the same blue overalls and white mask, the Michael towering over you made you believe all the rumors you’d ever heard about the so-called ‘embodiment of evil’. He had an aura that emanated an unstoppable power, and you couldn’t help but feel a tightening in your womanhood at the thought of the power being turned on you. 

Still face-down, you were all too aware of Michael kneeling down behind you. In one swift movement, your legs were yanked apart, and your skirt was pushed up to your abdomen. 

A large knife was brought into view, and before you could utter a sound, your tights and panties were sliced from you, leaving you bare from the waist down.

Breath heaving now, you were about to raise a protest before your shredded panties were unceremoniously shoved between your teeth.

Make-shift gag in place, Michael returned his focus to your lower half. 

Grabbing one of the nearby candles, Michael began to slowly trickle the hot wax across your ass and thighs, making you moan – the hot wax a beautiful contrast to the chill air of the room. Once more, his inexplicably ice-cold hands were at your entrance. This made you hiccup a sigh behind your gag and move your hips away. 

Michael immediately re-positioned himself to trap your movements. One of his knees came in-between yours, holding you open, and his strong arm wrapped around your hips – keeping you immobilized to suffer through his teasing. 

Fingers grazed your lower lips lightly – it was like feathers running across your most intimate of places – and the very tip of one nail pressed to your clit for less than a second. Enough to feel, but not enough to enjoy. You attempted to twist closer into the pressure, but you were held too tightly. 

His fingers worked their divine torture on you for what felt like a century. Up and down, hot and then cold, slowly dipping inside, but pulling away the second your hips began to stutter. Your chest heaved with exhaustion and you could feel yourself dripping down your inner thigh. A tear escaped as you whined piteously, looking back at Michael and begging for an end.

Tilting his head, the Shape of Haddonfield brought one massive arm up and pressed your head down to the floor, gaze forward. You could see through your shaking legs towards his kneeling form.

Your eyes widened as a white mask dropped carelessly to the floor next to him.

Not knowing what would come next, you closed your eyes and waited. 

A gentle flick of a tongue against your sopping slit was not what you were expecting.

Understanding what was happening, you moaned loudly, tilting your hips to give him better access.

Your mind sang his praises as you felt his lips and nose bury themselves into your wetness. Michael Myers was through teasing you.

You gave out a scream of ecstasy as his mouth opened to cover your whole sex. His full lips massaged your outer labia and clitoral hood as his tongue slipped into your entrance and swooped in a full circle before thrusting into your hole as far as he could go, curling as he exited - quickly plunging back in and repeating the process. 

You were shaking uncontrollably with your need to cum – small whimpers escaping past your gag and spurring Michael on. 

You were so very close, that when Michael dipped his head lower than ever and nipped gently at your clit with his teeth, it was all over. 

Sobbing out your release you thrashed about in his grip. Quiet shushing was all you heard before you blacked out. 

When you awoke, two minutes or two hours later, you were laid out on the floor, clothing re-positioned, and a small bundle of your discarded tights placed under your head as a make-shift pillow. Michael was no where to be seen. 

A loud pounding on the door made you jump.

“Hey LADY!” a voice from outside yelled.

“I gotta close up in here, any chance I could come in? I promise I won’t let the scary monsters get you!”

Rising up on shaky legs, you quickly opened the door and allowed yourself to be escorted out. As it turns out, your ‘rescuer’ was actually the man behind the Michael Myers costume for the haunted house. He gave you an overview of the house as you walked through it, towards the exit. You were only partly listening, still too strung out by your experience to fully focus, until he said something that made you stop walking.

“Wait, say that again?”

He looked at you oddly.

“What? I just said they had all kinds of backrooms and passages built into the walls here. Makes it easier to pop out and scare you guys, haha!”

You gave a half-hearted grin in return. Well, that answered how your Michael had been getting around the house so stealthily…

As you walked through the front door, he stopped you with a hand to your arm.

“Say, uh, I feel kinda bad for scaring you so much. You think I could take you out for a drink sometime to make it up to you?”

You gently pulled your arm away.

“Sorry, I already have a boyfriend.”

Speaking of which, you could see him coming over right now. Standing at least six inches taller than everyone else in the crowd, your man was looking very, very good dressed in dark jeans and a charcoal colored hoodie. His blond hair was pulled back into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, and his blue eyes casually, but keenly, perused the crowd. 

You hurried away from Wanna-Be Myers and threw yourself into your boyfriends’ arms. He looked down at you and gave a small smile, eyes shining with happiness. 

“Hey babe. You’ll never guess what happened to me tonight…”

He rolled his eyes and sighed at your cheeky comment; but pulled you close and wrapped his arm around your shoulder anyway.

You began to walk together towards the exit, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the couch together and watch an old horror classic. Your hand reached up to clasp his, but you stopped abruptly - causing your boyfriend to look down at you, questioningly. 

“Wait one second, I get the wax and the candles for the heat, but how in the world did you make your hands so cold?”

Michael’s eyebrows crawled into his hairline, and he started to pat himself down.

After a moment of searching, he sheepishly pulled out two slightly mushy ice cream bars, still in their plastic wrappers. Grinning, he offered one to you. 

You laughed loudly and took the proffered treat. 

What a smart man, your Michael Myers.


	3. Michael x Reader: Triple Penetration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new toy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: wisher has the same request, I want to see it frm both of yer prospectives, triple penetration with Daddy Myers. <3 indulge my new found disgusting thirst

You looked down at the plastic package in your hand with trepidation. The slow buzz of the shop droned on in the background as you contemplated what your boyfriend would think if you brought this particular item home with you. He hadn’t ever turned you down before, but this was a bit different from the usual goodies you presented him with. 

‘Sexy Couples: His & Hers Vibrating Anal Plugs’

The colorful packaging surrounding the matching pink and blue plugs was covered in cheesy cartoons of couples in bed – showing off the efficacy of their product.

‘ _Well, maybe if I ease it into the conversation after dinner Michael will be more amenable to trying these out_ …’

You tossed the package into your small bag and headed to the register with your purchases.

After you’d finished the rest of your grocery shopping at the nearby market, you drove home to the old Myers house.

You’d purchased the house and begun renovations roughly a year prior, and not long after that you’d met Michael. Somehow, you’d managed to make peace with each other’s presence in the house and your relationship progressed from reluctant roommates, to friends, and eventually lovers.

Michael had known nothing at all about how to make love to you; but as time passed he’d become a real pro at getting you off - and you’d unlocked a kinky side to him that no one else would ever even suspect existed.

You hadn’t experimented with anal-play before, but Michael and you had discussed it, and he hadn’t seemed opposed.

However, you knew that talking and doing were two very different things, and you hoped that by getting the two plugs, you’d be able to talk him into it by going through it with him.

Arriving at home, you unpacked the car and carried your bags into the kitchen, setting them on the small table at the center of the room.

Slowly sorting through cans and boxes, you felt two large, strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, and a rubber-covered forehead rest softly atop your skull. You smiled and moved to cover Michael’s hands with your own.

“Hey baby, how was your day?”

A loud exhale was your only response, and you turned in his arms, looking up at your man. Taking in his slouched shoulders and lowered head, you raised your eyebrows in concern.

“You look tired, Michael. Have you been having trouble sleeping again?”

Michael shrugged his shoulders and gave the sides of your waist a light squeeze. 

His way of saying ‘ _Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine_ ’.

Giving him a dubious look, you continued to unpack your bags. 

Michael moved to assist, and you didn’t think to stop him until he was holding your sex-shop treasure in his curious hands.

You could feel your cheeks heating up as he tilted his head to look at you.

“Ah. Well. I was meaning to talk to you about that after dinner…”

He shook the package back and forth slowly, and you knew if his mask was off he’d have a small quirk at the corner of his lips. He could read you far too well these days.

“I mean, we’ve talked about it a bit, but if you’re not comfortable, it’s totally fine! I just thought we might try them together since it would be your first time and all…. I don’t know, maybe it was a stupid idea…”

Now you knew he was smiling at you. The corners of his eyes crinkled beneath the white mask, and you looked down to hide your own grin.

“You know I ramble when I’m nervous.”

Withdrawing his knife from the pocket of his overalls, Michael neatly sliced through the plastic and presented you with the pink plug. 

“Awfully presumptuous of you to assume I wanted the pink one, Myers.”

You heard a muffled huff come from under the mask, and Michael raised the blue plug up between two fingers, wiggling it back and forth tauntingly.

‘ _Well if you want it, come and get it_.’

Humming in the back of your throat, you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“No, I think the blue will look better on you, now that I think of it…”

You sauntered past him towards the kitchen door.

“You and that lily-white ass.”

Turning quickly, your hand flew out and cracked across Michael’s butt.

He flinched forward and took a moment to look at you incredulously before taking several menacing steps in your direction.

Shrieking with delight, you ran towards the stairs, Michael following in hot pursuit.

* * *

The next morning, you woke with your alarm as usual. Sitting up and stretching, you groaned as the sunlight filtering in hit your sleepy eyes.

Michael gave a low groan next to you and grabbed your recently discarded pillow to press over his head. Apparently, he wasn’t quite ready to greet the day. That was fine by you. He’d more than earned his rest.

You smiled widely at your remembrance of what you two had done last night.   
After an energetic session of love-making, Michael had brought out both of your plugs – insistent that they be utilized that night.

He’d thoroughly enjoyed stretching you out enough to accept your own plug; but getting his in had been a bit more of a process. 

After copious amounts of lube and a lot of gentle fingering, you’d finally been able to fully insert his (you were right, the blue looked amazing). As he lay beneath your soft hands, you explained that you’d had the idea for you both to wear your plugs for the entire day – and then explore what the other thought about it in the evening. 

Although his maskless face was covered in a slight sheen of sweat from the exertion, Michael had nodded in agreement.

At work, you’d felt the full weight of the plug pressing against your insides. You were careful to sit at your desk gingerly – attempting to avoid any unnecessary stimulation. As you covered up a moan with a yawn after an inopportune hip adjustment, you gazed at the clock and counted down the hours until you’d be free to go home. 

You’d given Michael some tips on how to handle wearing a plug for an entire day, but you weren’t quite sure how much had penetrated his half-asleep mind. You hoped his first anal experience wasn’t going too terribly.

As you pulled into the driveway, the first thing out of place you noticed was that the living room curtains were wide-open.

Michael was fastidious about keeping himself hidden from the Haddonfield public, and one of the most obvious ways he did this was to close all blinds and curtains as soon as you left in the morning.

The fact that he seemed to have not done that today was worrisome.

You cautiously poked your head through the front door and assessed the living room. Nothing looked amiss. Nothing even looked touched. Had Michael left?

You heard a SLAM from the second floor, causing you to jump. 

What was going on??

Moving slowly, you approached the stairs and began to climb. 

Almost as soon as you reached the top, you cried out and nearly fell to your knees as the plug inside you sprung to life with violent vibrations.

Your brain worked overtime as you clung to the banister for support. You’d bought the vibrating plugs sure, but you hadn’t seen the remote since Michael had removed the plugs from their package… A moan that didn’t belong to you echoed down the hall.

Oh God, Michael…

Moving shakily, you opened the door to your bedroom. 

What you beheld upon entering was undoubtedly the hottest thing you’d ever seen in your life.

Michael lay, naked, sprawled across the length of your bed. 

The sheets and comforter had been kicked off and pooled at the base. One of his arms was raised, grasping the hard wood of your headboard like a life-line; the other was pulling furiously at his rock-hard cock. 

Michael’s whole chest heaved, and you could see the white splatter of several previous releases painted across his muscles. His head was tossing, blonde locks slick with sweat pressed against his head, and his eyes were rolled back towards the ceiling. You could hear the buzzing of his plug from where you stood.

If you hadn’t been wet before, you sure as hell were now.

“Holy fuck…”

Your voice made Michael pause in his movements, and he rolled his head in your direction – wild eyes meeting yours.

“Michael…” you began tentatively.

“How long have you been like this?”

Raising his eyes to look at your bedside clock, Michael held up three shaky fingers.

“Three hours?!? What the hell, why didn’t you turn it off?!”

It was a testament to how strung out Michael was that he didn’t even try to mime out his answer for you.

“…. Couldn’t…remote…lost… too much…”

You wobbled over to the side of the bed, your own plug still merrily vibrating against a particularly good spot inside you. 

“Ok…” you began, leaning against the mattress.

“Experiment’s over. We’re taking these out right now.”

As you quickly knelt and stripped out of your own clothes, you were aware of Michael moving in your peripherals – but didn’t think to do anything about it until you were bodily lifted off the floor and onto his thighs. 

“Michael? What are you doing?!”

Kissing you sloppily, Michael breathed out “Close…. Please…”

You gaped at him – three hours of constant stimulation, and he still wanted another orgasm. This man was unreal.

“Tell me what you want Michael.”

He panted at your throat for a moment before whispering “….ride.”

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck fine.”

You pressed against Michael’s chest and he flopped back wearily. 

Scooting yourself up, you grasped Michael’s cock with one hand, prompting him to moan loudly, and slowly lowered yourself onto him.

You immediately felt fuller than you had in a long time. Michael’s thick length filling your front, and the vibrating plug at your rear.

This, however, was nothing to what Michael was experiencing beneath you. He was bombarded on all sides by pressure and vibrations. Your weight pressing the plug inside him straight into his prostate – and your tight womanhood grasping his cock as your own plug vibrated against him from your interior.

Unable to control himself, Michael bucked his hips once, twice, and then threw his head back in a silent scream as you were filled with his warm seed.

He immediately went boneless beneath you, muttering nearly noiseless ‘sorry’s as you slid off his now soft member.

You took a deep breath and petted at his face soothingly with one hand as you reached back to remove his plug with the other.

He whined in over-stimulation as you twisted his free and tossed it to the floor. You quickly removed your own and sent it after it’s mate. 

You’d worry about cleaning them up tomorrow.

Grabbing the water bottle you kept at your bedside, you tilted Michael’s head to help him drink some of the much-needed liquid. 

Rising from the bed, you stepped over to the bathroom and wet a washcloth, walking quickly to bring it back to Michael.

As you turned, you stepped on a small pile of clothes and shoes you’d discarded the night before – feeling something hard press against the sole of your foot, you paused. 

Bending over, you moved your clothes away to reveal the discarded plug packaging. And inside, the remote. One of the shoes must have been kicked over and pressed the power button while Michael was moving around this morning. 

Grabbing up the remote, you quickly flicked it off, hearing the plugs power down on the other side of the room. 

Moving back over to Michael, you wiped his chest and arms with the washcloth, then refolded it to clean his face. 

Looking at you through slit eyes, Michael grasped onto your arm with his hand, halting your movements.

You eyed him questioningly.

“What’s wrong baby?”

He swallowed tightly.

“You didn’t…”

He motioned to your uncovered sex with his eyes. Conveying his meaning very clearly.

You gave him a soft smile.

“I think we’re both done for the night. You can make it up to me in the morning.”

Michael gazed up at you with serious eyes. He nodded, silently promising that you’d be incredibly well taken care of in the new day.

Feeling the excitement of everything finally hit, you crawled into bed next to Michael. Kissing his chest lightly, you lay your head on his shoulder - exhaling deeply.

Well, your experiment hadn’t gone exactly the way you’d planned. At least Michael had seemed to have a reasonably good time with it.

As you slowly slipped into slumber one final thought crossed your mind:

‘….. _Next time I’m just going to stick with the strap-on_ …’


	4. Michael x Reader: W.I.C.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story came out of a delicious conversation I had with @slasherwritings <3 It hasn’t been edited as much as it probably should have been, and is legitimately 100% SMUT. Don’t look for a plot here, you won’t find it. Enjoy!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all dirty dirty femdom stuff. My favorite....

When you walked through your front door, the last thing you expected to be confronted by was Michael Myers on his knees before you.

“Michael?” you queried, dropping your keys into the waiting catch-all and pulling your coat from your shoulders.

“What’s going on baby? What happened?”

Michael said nothing in response, not that you were surprised, and remained stock-still as you approached him. 

You settled your hands gently on his shoulders and began to run your fingers through the coarse hair of his mask.

Though he was on his knees, he was nearly the same height as you, and it wasn’t any stretch to try and catch his eyes behind the white mask. Michael bowed his head to avoid your gaze and you stepped back in concern, quickly checking to see if he was injured in any way.

That’s when you noticed the collection of leather belts in Michael’s grip.

You recognized it instantly. It was your very favorite strap-on harness. Ah. The pieces were beginning to fall into place.

Immediately, you began to slip into your domme persona.

“Michael. Where did you get that? Did I give you permission to play in the toy box while I was away?”

Michael whined lowly and brought his hands up to present the harness to you.

“Go upstairs. Lay out my harness, rope, and spreader bar. Finger yourself open until I get up there, but don’t cum.”

Michael rose to his full height to obey your command.

“No, Michael. Hands and knees.”

Hesitating for a moment, at which you raised an eyebrow, Michael lowered himself back to the floor and began to crawl towards your bedroom.

You took a moment to appreciate the movements of his swaying ass, then turned to attend to yourself.

With a tired sigh, you moved into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. Taking a sip, you contemplated how you would deal with Michael tonight. It wasn’t terribly often that he asked you to take full control in the bedroom, but when he did, he wanted you to ruin him - And for a man as strong as Michael, that took some creativity. 

Replacing the cap on your water, you grabbed a second bottle for Michael and began to move towards your bedroom. 

You were greeted with the delicious sight of Michael, bent over your bed, entirely naked and mask-less, two fingers squelching in and out of his tight hole.

He paused as you entered, eyeing you from his position over the bed.

You strode up to him and quickly pulled his hand away from his ass, replacing it with two fingers of your own.

Michael inhaled sharply as you quickly tested his tightness.

“Add a third and keep going.”

As he quickly obeyed you, you turned to review the implements spread across the dresser, double checking that Michael had brought everything you’d told him to. You grinned at the addition of a silicone ball gag he’d taken the initiative to throw in next to your ropes. You picked it up between your fingers and shook it in his direction.

“Really Michael? Can’t we do a little bit better than that tonight?”

Feeling his eyes on you as you crossed the room, you bent over a bit further than necessary as you opened the small trunk that housed your toy collection.  
Carelessly flicking the ball-gag back inside, you reach in to pull out an o-gag with a four-inch dildo attachment.

Turing to present these to Michael, you smirked when you saw his eyes dilate in arousal. 

Walking over, you pressed the dildo into the sheets next to his head. Giving his shoulder a teasing kiss, you whispered

“We’ll save that for later.”

Glancing down, you saw his cock was already dripping steadily - the head a lovely shade of dark pink. 

Coming to stand behind him, you began to disrobe; throwing your clothes into the corner past his head so he’d know what you were doing.

Once you were down to your underwear (thank God you’d decided on lingerie over a sports bra today), you began to attach your harness. Michael had laid out your (and his) favorite dildo to attach to your strap. A respectable six-and-a-half-inch black silicone with waving veins and a bulging head – one you knew from experience would hit Michael’s prostate like a hammer.

After securing the dildo, you walked back over to the bed where Michael lay, still swirling his fingers about inside himself. You could tell from where you stood that he was significantly looser than he was when you’re walked in – and that made you happy. You wanted to wreck Michael, not hurt him.

“Stop.”

Michael immediately pulled his hand away from his hole. 

He arched his hips slightly in presentation, clearly thinking you planned to take him standing – well, he was in for a surprise.

You walked slowly over to your vanity chair and seated yourself primly on the edge.

His eyes followed your movements and you gave him a small smile as you motioned him forward with a finger.

“Come here, baby. I want you to suck my cock.”

Returning to all fours, Michael crawled forward to position himself - kneeling between your spread legs. 

He looked up at you, waiting for instruction.

“Hands behind your back. I don’t want you touching yourself unless I give you permission to do so.”

His hands clasped tightly, then he got to work.

You watched him intently contemplate the length strapped to your hips – nosing at the soft material and offering small kittenish licks up and down the sides.

“Get it nice and wet sweetheart – wouldn’t want you to tear something when you’re riding me.”

Michael paused slightly at your words, body giving a small tremor before taking the head of your cock well into his mouth.

You hummed in appreciation of the sight he made, resting your hand gently atop his head. 

He began to bob with more enthusiasm, and soon you could begin to see the glisten of spit on the silicone length.

Gripping his hair, you pushed his head down to take the entire cock – surprising him, and causing him to give a small whimper as he gagged. 

You kept his head down until you saw tears start to form at the corners of his eyes. After a quick tug from you, he rose up gasping, then immediately lowered back to take you in his mouth again. 

“No, no, love..” you cooed “Time to fill you up - do you want your gag in now, or later?”

Keeping quiet, Michael turned his head to look at you and opened his mouth. 

Looked like he wanted it now.

Reaching over, you grabbed the leather strap and with practiced motions secured the gag to Michael’s head. 

The room filled with the quiet noise of Michael’s panting, and you couldn’t help but to press a finger into his mouth to run against his tongue.

As soon as he began to whine, you removed yourself and slid swiftly onto the bed – laying in the center to give you both room to maneuver. 

Pulling out your bottle of lube, just in case, you watched as Michael joined you on the bed and pulled himself up to straddle your thighs.

“Mmmmm, yes gorgeous, get yourself up there and sit on my cock.”

The wonderful thing about the o-ring gag was that Michael no longer had the option of withholding any noises he made from you – so as the filthy words began pouring from your lips, so did the moaning appreciation from his.

You held your phallus steady as Michael slowly lowered himself down onto it, taking an inch or two before rising back up, sinking down in this manner until he was flush against your hips. 

His own length sat rigid and heavy against your stomach, and you gave it a teasing flick – causing Michael to twist atop you.

He immediately cried out as his impromptu grind shifted the head of your cock directly into his prostate.

You smirked up at his slack face, enjoying the sight of his pink tongue beginning to loll out from behind the gag.

“Show me that again Michael – Bounce.”

Gripping the headboard with both hands, Michael began enthusiastically bucking his hips. As he moved, he leaned down to meet your gaze with his own, heated to boiling with arousal. 

A small trail of drool began to slide down his face as he humped and ground atop your eternally hard length. Eyes rolling as he began to mash his prostate against the silicone inside him, Michael began to give out nearly constant noises of pleasure

“Ah-ah-ah-ah _Ye_ \- _UH_ – **NNGH**!!!”

Running your nails up and down his thighs, you watched as Michael fell apart atop you – hot seed spraying out to cover your stomach and chest.

While he was otherwise distracted, you sat up and rolled you both so he was on his back – chest heaving and covered in his own sweat and drool.

You ran a finger through his spunk on your body and offered him the digit to clean. 

“So, how many more do you think you have in you, babe?” you began conversationally as he ran his tongue along your finger.

“Two? Three? Should I just keep milking you until you’re dry? Want to be my good little cow, hmm?”

Michael shuddered beneath you as his cock twitched in interest at your words.

“Ooo, I’ll take that as a yes.” 

You couldn’t resist leaning over to suck a quick hickey into his neck before prompting him to roll onto his stomach. 

Grabbing the toys laid out on the table, you tied Michael’s wrists behind his back with your rope and attached the spreader-bar to his ankles.

You pulled his hips back, so his ass was positioned high in the air and his chest lay against the soft mattress you’d recently vacated.

Pouring a bit more lube onto your length, you positioned yourself behind Michael and prepared to press in.

“Oh!” you exclaimed.

“I almost forgot!”

Turning, you snatched up the small dildo attachment and presented it to Michael.  
He groaned and closed his eyes, opening his lips just a bit wider around the gag in anticipation.

Petting his hair, you slowly inserted the dildo into his mouth and secured it to the leather strap.

You kissed his head.

“So much better.”

Trailing your hand along his ribs as you moved back behind him, Michael’s muscular flank twitched, and a low moan came from behind his now-stuffed mouth.

You laughed.

And in one swift motion, you pressed forward and buried your entire cock in Michael’s ass.

“ _ **MMMMMMM**_!!!”

His chest rose off the bed and he attempted to twist and look at you; but you quickly leaned forward and pressed his head back into the pillow. You began pumping your hips back and forth as he whimpered beneath you. 

“That’s right Michael, I’m gonna fuck your tight little ass so hard you’ll be screaming before I’m through.”

Rotating your pelvis, you began a steady rhythm of thrusts into Michael, searching for the spot that would make him see stars.

You knew you were on the right track as Michael began thrashing and tossing his head back and forth while letting out a steady garbled stream of begging sounds.

“MMMMmm… MMM… _Yhhhhee_ , _yE_ , _Ye_ , **YGH**!!! **_PLG_**!!”

Needing some extra leverage, you grasped him by his blonde locks and yanked – pulling his head back towards you and tilting his hips upward. 

This action had the two-fold effect of gagging Michael on the dildo in his mouth and pressing your shaft directly into his inner sweet-spot.

Tears began to slide down Michael’s cheeks as his eyes rolled back in his head – he was shaking almost non-stop as you continued to pummel yourself against him.

You released his hair as Michael’s orgasm snapped though him like a taut piano wire.

He dropped bonelessly to the mattress – gasping for air though his nose, and riding the high of his release.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you gazed at Michael’s felled form. 

Gently removing yourself from him, you pulled off your harness and set it aside to clean later. You grabbed a small bundle and the water bottle you’d brought from the side table and carried them back to Michael’s side.

Lifting his head, you undid the gag and offered him some of the cool liquid, which he gratefully sipped at – still feeling the aftershocks of his last orgasm.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m all worn out.”

Michael huffed quietly, nuzzling his head into your hand.

“But I did promise to milk you until you couldn’t cum anymore…”

Michael stilled beneath your hand.

“And I always keep my promises.”

You kissed him hard as you slid the cock-ring you’d had in your bundle over his shaft, giving his tip a teasing pinch and withdrawing. 

Eyes wide, Michael gaped at you in disbelief. 

The gape turned into a gasp as you quickly pressed a slick dildo into his ass.

“… So you stay here and warm up for the next round. I’m going to go make some tea.”

You turned away and stepped towards the door as Michael began to struggle against the ropes and metal bar holding him in place.

Glancing back as you reached the door, you grinned at the fiery glare Michael had leveled at you.

You pulled two remotes from behind your back and waggled them at Michael.

“Love you, baby.”

You pressed the buttons.


	5. H/C: Teaching Michael

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'H/C' chapters indicate that the scenario will be played out using bullet-points.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bloodysalts asked: S/O trying to teach Bubba / Michael (either is good for me uwu) cuz these bois need some knowledge

Michael:

• This boy is severely lacking in stimulation outside of his killing

• You were getting tired of walking into the house to find him staring listlessly at the television

• Nearing the end of your rope, you went out to the nearest bookstore and bought a GED prep book.

• Michael was confused at first – he didn’t understand why you felt so strongly about getting him an interest outside of killing. He’d sat around in the hospital for with nothing else to do but twiddle his thumbs for nearly two decades, so the idea that he even could do something else was foreign.

• You told him that even if he didn’t find anything particularly interesting in the prep-course, it was never a bad thing to have a bit more education. Michael begrudgingly agreed – he had gone into the hospital when he was 6 after all – there was a lot out there that other people knew that he didn’t

• One he’d started, you still found yourself explaining a lot of remedial concepts to Michael. He was in no way unintelligent, there were just significant gaps in things he should have learned during the age between 6 and 12. 

• You both soon discovered that Michael had a knack for remembering obscure dates and details – no surprise, considering what he did – and that he thoroughly enjoyed learning about history. 

• To your shock, he didn’t turn this new-found enthusiasm towards learning about his serial-killer predecessors, but instead began investigating the history of seemingly random items, which he would rotate out for another topic once he’d learned all he felt he needed to on it.

• Math was his weakest subject, and after having the algebra prep packet tossed across the room with a grunt of anger for the dozenth time, you sat down and commiserated with Michael over your own high school math experience – it helped to let him know that his frustration was in no way indicative of something missing in him, math was almost universally hated by students.

• After several months of study, you brought home a copy of the GED test packet. You both knew he’d never actually get to take the test with his current status as an extremely wanted man; but you’d gotten your hands on the test anyway, and that evening you sat as a proctor for Michael as he leaned over your kitchen table, filling in the booklet with all the facts and knowledge he’d gained.

• You’d swear Michael looked nervous as you compared his sheet to the answer list. Those nerves were soon allayed as you proclaimed that he had passed the test with flying colors.

• Michael gave you a small grateful smile as his chest puffed up with pride. Thank you for pushing him to do this.

• Now when you came home, more often than not, you’d find Michael sitting on the couch fully enthralled in a book – this week it looked like it was on the history of coal mining. 

• You curl up next to him and he’d wrap one of his big arms around you, pulling you close to his side. Feeling cozy and content, you drift off into a cat nap, happy in the knowledge that Michael was improving himself from being simply the ‘embodiment of evil’ into a functional adult.


	6. H/C: Michael with a Flirty!S/O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Michael with an s/o whose always flirting and cracking dirty jokes but the MOMENT anything turns serious they freeze up and become a blushy mess, please?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'H/C' indicates the prompt was filled using bullet-points, not as a full narrative.

• You are the most confusing person Michael has ever encountered.

• 99% of your jokes fly right over his head – nearly two decades spent in a hospital is not a great environment to work on your sense of humor.

• If you try the classics like ‘Hey big boy, is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?’ he will pull out his knife. He’s happy to see you too of course… But he did indeed have a knife in his pocket, sooo….

• You take his relative… innocence, or naiveté, or whatever this actually is as a CHALLENGE

• “I can tell you’re into yoga, why don’t you show me how flexible you are?” – What? He doesn’t even know what yoga is. Fail.

• “Those clothes would look great in a crumpled heap on my bedroom floor.” - …. But you told him to put his coveralls in the hamper??? FAIL.

• “If I’m a pain in your ass, we can just add more lubricant.” – He sighs deeply, shrugs, and walks out the door. Fail.

• “Fuck me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?” – Wrong. He’s turning on the Discovery Channel to prove it to you. FAIL.

• FINALLY you’re too fed up to continue being coy (if anyone could call what you’d been doing being ‘coy’), and take a chance on a serious conversation.

• Despite your sassy and flirty attitude, when you try and get real with Michael, you feel like you’ve never been less smooth in your whole life

• You stutter, you blush, all your nervous ticks come out and you’re sure Michael will leave once he sees what a fool you really are.

• Imagine your surprise when he hoists you up into his arms, kisses you hard, and begins to make his way to your bedroom. 

• ‘Honestly,’ Michael thought ‘you should have just said something.’


	7. H/C: Michael with a Ghost!S/O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Okay okay I have an idea. Michaels s/o is like one of the ghosts like the ones in american horror story and she can only leave at Halloween so both make themself a nice halloween evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'H/C' chapters indicate that the prompt was filled using bullet-points instead of a full-narrative

• You’d begun your Halloween night preparations months in advance

• You had no idea how much the town had changed during your interment in the house, so you needed Michael’s help

• He brought you newspapers and flyers for any current events going on around Haddonfield; and you gave him ideas for places to scope out and see if they’d be good places to go during the evening hours

• You’d finally agreed on a small side-walk café on the outskirts of town, not too crowded, but they had been advertising a small musical event for Halloween, and you wanted so desperately to enjoy the evening like a normal person for once

• Michael sat in the shadows and watched you watching the fading of the sun on Halloween evening, practically bouncing in excitement with a grin larger than he’d seen in a long time

• “Are you ready Michael?? Oh, I’m so excited!! I can’t wait to go out and see the band, and sit on the street… Oh!! We’ll have coffee and walk through the park! It’ll be just like a real date!”

• Michael smiled indulgently at you, looking moderately uncomfortable without his mask on – tugging self-consciously at the sleeves of his soft flannel button-down

• As the last rays of sunlight passed over the horizon, you flung the door of the Myers house open and took a deep breath of the chill Autumn air

• Feeling Michaels large presence come up behind you, you reached behind you and clasped his warm hand in your cold one

• Giving him a warm look, you placed your arm through his, and together you stepped out of the house - for the first time since he’d murdered you in it.


	8. Michael x Reader: 100 Kink Meme 16, 31, 36, 65 & 86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: s-kinkyslashers asked: yeah ello sla I have a dream from the 100 KINK thing so: 16, 31, 36, and 86 for Michael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 16\. Dry Humping
> 
> 31\. Fully Clothed
> 
> 36\. Against the wall
> 
> 65\. Fight Sex
> 
> 86\. Really rough shove-y sex

“FUCK YOU MYERS!!!”

You were raging around the house, completely undone and unreasonable. Michael had pissed you off so incredibly, you were beyond the point of calming down. 

You needed an outlet.

Holy fuck you were angry.

Michael was gazing off into space. Pretending he didn’t care that he’d royally fucked up and that you were about to blow your top. Intellectually, you knew that withdrawing into his own head was one of Michael’s key defense mechanisms; but the monkey-brain ruling your psyche right now was saying 

_‘HURT. HURT BAD. HURT BACK.’_

Unfortunately, monkey-brain also thought it was a good idea to throw a punch at a man well over a foot taller than you.

He caught your hand in his, because of course he did – Michael had reflexes like a freakin’ cat when he needed to – and with a quick twist, you were pinned to the wall with your arm in a tight hold.

Struggling mightily, you hissed and spat insults at Michael, ready to go another round. 

Imagine your surprise when Michael not only didn’t respond violently to your words, but pressed his leg up between yours and began rubbing at the crotch of your jeans.

“Whaa…?”

Very intelligent. 

Your anger momentarily forgotten, you furrowed your brow and tried to wrap your brain around what was happening.

The lucid part of your mind whispered ‘he’s trying to distract you…’ but once again, monkey-brain – that flip-flopping bitch- chimed in with a _‘SEX! SEX! SEX! MAKE BABY. HIM BIG. STRONG. GOOD DICK. LOVE DICK.’_

You really needed to stop listening to your monkey-brain, you thought as you began to tentatively grind back against Michael’s thigh.

Observing your supposed surrender, Michael released your arm.

Wrong move, fucker.

You twisted against him and used all your bodyweight to reverse your positions.

If he wants to do the old bump and grind, you were not going to go gently into that good night.

You tossed yourself back against his body and began to jerk your hips up and down against him – taking your pleasure with a snarl.

Michael grabbed your hand in one of his and forced your open palm towards the steadily growing hardness in his coveralls – pressing insistently against himself until you allowed your hand to be led in a harsh rubbing motion.

Still humping at his thigh, you began to fumble with your jeans – you needed them open, like, yesterday; but having only one free hand was presenting a challenge as you attempted to focus on the damn button, rubbing Michael’s cock, and pressing your needy cunt against his thigh at the same time.

You could feel your underwear soaking through with your fluids as you finally undid the button and began to lower your zipper – only to have it get stuck half-way down.

“FUCKING FUCK!!”

Michael growled as your hand left his hardness to try and pry your pants off your hips.

You cussed and struggled until Michael took matters into his own hands, taking both sides of your pants in his grasp and ripping them straight down the inseam.

You gasped at his show of strength. 

That, coupled with the cool air touching your boiling pussy, was like cat-nip to your frazzled mind.

Not quite done with you, Michael reached to your crotch and tore your panties from your body, leaving your legs covered in your torn jeans – DIY ass-less chaps, you supposed.

Well, it would get the job done.

Grabbing at his clothing, you quickly lowered the large brass zipper on his suit as far as it would go. Someone knew what they were up to when they designed these overalls, because Michaels cock sprung free of the opened seam almost immediately.

“Still… Pissed…” you ground out, as you began to tip over the edge between angry and horny.

Michael nodded in agreement. 

You’d definitely need to have a sit-down and discuss your issues; but that could wait for later. 

Right now, there was a giant cock with your name on it – and you desperately wanted to climb the owner of said cock like a tree.

You yowled like a cat in heat as Michael’s big hands came up under your thighs and hoisted you up onto the wall.

Pinned between the two hard places, you began to yank at Michael’s collar, trying to pull yourself down onto his length.

Obligingly, Michael lowered your hips to meet his own, and you both moaned in unison as your heat sank down onto him.

You clawed at his back and neck as he began to bounce you on his cock. 

“Ah, ah, ang, _uh_ , _**AHH!**_ _MICHAEL!!_ ”

The answering moan was loud and half-way between a cry and a shout – Michael was enjoying your energetic coupling as much as you were.

Grasping the back of his mask, you jerked his head back and hungrily devoured the plastic lips of his ‘face’. 

You could feel his lips motioning back against your own, and this only increased your fervor.

Whining and growling at him though the mask, you humped hard against his rollicking hips; chasing your high.

As you felt him stutter against you, you pressed yourself against his body with all your might – grinding your engorged clit against anything you could.

Thankfully, it was enough, and as you felt Michael spurt inside of you; you followed straight after with a cry of pleasure.

As Michael sunk to the ground, you curled yourself further into his embrace.

Giving his exposed neck light kisses – you smirked in amusement.

“Well, I suppose that’s one way to end an argument.”


	9. H/C: Michael with a Cat-Owning S/O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: It's mentioned in the new Halloween novel that some kittens were left alone with Michael and he didn't harm them. So imagine him being with someone who owns one or two cats. He tolerates them walking over him and making biscuits on his thighs, but he secretly loves the purring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'H/C' chapters indicate that the prompt was filled using bullet-points instead of a full-narrative

• There were a lot of things about Michael that made you nervous – but to be fair, the things about Michael that made you nervous were probably different from what everyone else thought of…

• People probably weren’t concerned with the infamous Boogeyman’s eating habits, personal hygiene, or general happiness when he was chasing after them with a kitchen knife

• But today you were genuinely afraid of how Michael would react

• You’d been ‘seeing’ each other for several months now, and you’d finally decided to move into the Myers house permanently

• You’d purchased the property prior to knowing about Michael, once you’d met you’d remained in your rented apartment out of respect for his space and history with the house – but now you were together, and this was the next big step for your relationship 

• However, Michael had never actually been to your apartment – meaning you had no idea if he knew about Pyewacket and Elvis, your twin Siamese cats

• Their carrier was the last thing you brought into the house, and you worried your lip as you watched Michael observing the cats investigating their new home

• You weren’t sure if you were disappointed or relieved when Michael tilted his head slightly then went about his business as if the cats weren’t there

• Several weeks passed by without incident, and Michael seemed to be ignoring your kitties entirely

• This seemed to be the new norm, until you came home early one night

• The last thing you were expecting to see was Michael laying – presumably asleep – on the couch, with Pye and Elvis planted cozily atop his chest, purring like little motors

• You silently observed the scene, and were surprised when Michael’s hands rose and began petting Pye’s soft fur while scratching a finger underneath Elvis’ chin, giving both babies some gentle affection

• Hiding your smile behind your hand, you snuck past the dozing group and into the kitchen

• The cat’s toys and treats were scattered across the floor, telling you that Michael had spent quite a bit of time enjoying your cat’s company prior to passing out on the couch

• As you turned on the coffee pot, you leaned out the kitchen entryway and caught Michael’s gaze– he was fully awake now, and you could see his soft eyes behind his mask as he continued to calmly run his hands across silky fur

• “I don’t know if I’m jealous of you, or the cats.” you said with a smile

• Michael huffed out a soft laugh, his slight movement jostling the cats awake

• “Come have some coffee with me baby. Maybe later I’ll let you stroke me like that.”

• As your little family moved to join you in the kitchen, you could honestly say you’d never been happier


	10. H/C: Michael with a Medicated!S/O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Do you have any headcanons on Michael being with someone who has to take medication everyday? I can imagine his only experience with meds are the sedatives the doctors used on him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'H/C' chapters indicate that the prompt was filled using bullet-points instead of a full-narrative

• When he catches you taking your pills, his first instinct is to toss them into the trash

• He remembers all too well the uncontrollable fuzzy feeling the tiny tablets in the paper cups would bring him, as well as the harsh fingers pressing into his mouth to ensure he wasn’t trying to hide them beneath his tongue

• One particularly cruel and fearful nurse would insist he be strapped to the bed before she would enter the room to give him his meds – he’d thoroughly enjoyed strangling her on his way out of the hospital

• You notice something isn’t right as soon as his body becomes rigid and his breathing picks up

• He won’t respond to any of your concerned queries, and the only way you figure out what the problem is, is when you set your pill bottle back on the counter and his eyes follow it – body giving the slightest flinch at the loud tap of the plastic hitting the granite

• You approach him slowly – knowing that when he’s caught in these re-visitations of his past trauma, he’s likely to strike first and think later

• Quietly calling out his name, you stand at arms-length, ready to jump away from his reach if it comes to that; and stroke a soft hand up and down his tense bicep

• Another minute passes before you see awareness return to his eyes and he focuses in on your face; giving you a hesitant, questioning look

• Giving him a gentle smile, you take his hand and lead him over to the couch

• As soon as you’re sitting, he pulls you into a protective hold, wanting to reassure himself that you’re OK, you’re not mad at him for zoning out, and that you’re not being negatively affected by whatever pills you took

• You curl yourself closer into his tight embrace, and you calmly explain what your medicine is, and why you have to take it

• Once you make Michael understand that these pills are helpful to you, and that your life is much better when you’re taking them, he’ll want to be with you every time you take them, making him a better medicine reminder than any alert on your phone could ever be 

• He wants you to be as healthy as you can possibly be; but you can be sure he’ll always be suspicious of anything that comes in those innocuous orange bottles.


	11. Michael x Reader: "Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 95 of the Drabble list with Michael Myers? Just because that’d be hilarious :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'H/C' chapters indicate that the prompt was filled using bullet-points instead of a full-narrative

‘Twas the night before Halloween, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a…

_SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT_

“ **DAMMIT**!!!”

You threw off the covers at the first noise of something being thrown at your front door. Huffing and puffing, you stomped down the stairs, muttering obscenities under your breath. You stopped at the base and listened to the sound of what you could only assume were eggs being pelted against the front of your house. 

Man, the kids in this town were really throwing it back to an old classic. 

You stormed over and flung the door wide – immediately ducking with a yelp as a white sphere whizzed past your head.

“COME ON YOU BRATS!!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO GET EGG OFF WOOD????”

You peered into the dim night and could see about a half a dozen lanky forms sprinting off down the sidewalk, all noticeably wearing Halloween costumes. 

It was freaking midnight. Officially Halloween. These damn kids were taking full advantage before tonight; as most parents would keep too close an eye on their children when the Haddonfield boogeyman was set to hunt for the local hooligans to get into too much trouble.

You stormed back inside and into the kitchen – where your boyfriend sat, enjoying a bowl of Lucky Charms, as the insomniac sugar-addict was wont to do. 

“Where’s your knife? I’ve got some teenagers to kill.”

If you’d been in a better frame of mind, you would have appreciated the sight of your towering 6’9” boyfriend Michael Myers choking on marshmallow cereal; but you were more focused on how you were going to dismember your pre-pubescent prey.

Michael continued to cough and hack as he reached out and pulled you into his lap. You pouted, and slapped him on the back, finally allowing him to breath properly as his choked noises gave way to breathy chuckles.

He pressed a kiss into your hair as you leaned into his embrace.

“Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween?”

Nodding gravely, Michael pulled you both to your feet and began rummaging around for a bucket and sponge. He’d help you clean the house, then get ready for tonight’s work. 

He nodded out at the kitchen window, which gave a great view of the sidewalk and back alley you’d watched the reprobate tricksters escape down. He must have been watching the whole time. 

Giving you a wink, you knew there would be several additional bodies added to the kill-count for this upcoming evening. 

You smiled up at him as you filled the bucket up with sudsy water. 

“That’ll teach them to piss off the Boogeyman.”

Michael lifted one corner of his mouth in a small smirk before adding quietly:

“…Or his girlfriend.”


	12. Michael x Reader: Bringing Work Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Anonymous asked: I noticed that Michael doesn't typically kill kids, and my brain took that and ran. Imagine Michael killing some couple in their house and turning to find this little 3 year old watching him. He intends to just leave the kid in the house for someone to find but the little tyke follows him out, he tries to lose her by taking the long route to his house but she refuses to be left behind. He even tries sticking her in another house but she finds her way back to him. He's grudgingly impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVED this prompt!! I was totally in the mood for a little cutes-y humor, so excuse Michael being pretty much entirely OOC. Fair warning- this has definitely not been edited.

You were pulled from a dead-sleep by the sound of a slamming door. 

This was far from unusual, as your boyfriends’ ‘extracurricular’ activities often lent themselves to late-nights and frustrated furniture assaults when the afore-mentioned activities had gone poorly.

Blinking blearily up at the clock you scowled at the sanguine 2:30 AM that started back at you.

Pressing your face back into your pillow, you prepared to resume your rest when a second sound made you sit bolt-upright in bed.

Interspersed with the normal sounds of Michael stomping around downstairs was the light, tinkling laughter of a child.

You were fully awake and tossing the covers away by the time Michael had stomped his way up the stairs and opened the bedroom door. 

“Michael? What’s going on?”

Not bothering to answer you (not that he normally would), Michael grabbed you firmly by the upper arm and pulled you out into the hallway. Your continuing questions only seemed to make Michael try to make you move faster, and when you both arrived at the top of the staircase the large man at your side pointed an equally large arm imperiously down to the first-floor landing. 

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the sight of a small girl crawling up the stairs on her hands and knees. 

She couldn’t have been more than three or four years old and looked every inch the angelic, cherubic-type with round cheeks, blonde curls, and blue eyes. All rounded off by a coo-inducing smile displaying several missing teeth.

A smile directed like a heat-seeking missile right at your boyfriend.

You hustled down the stairs and gathered the toddler up in your arms, checking her over quickly for injury – seeing none, but noticing a suspicious rust-color staining the soft bottoms of her tiny shoes.

You were surprised even further when the small girl turned in your hold and held her chubby baby arms out towards the towering man still standing atop the staircase; making small giggling noises and blowing raspberries as Michael tilted his head in consternation.

Catching his eye, you raised your eyebrow as you began to bounce the girl on your hip.

“Want to explain this to me, Michael?”

**Earlier That Evening…**

Screams filled the air as Natalie Burns met her untimely end at the edge of The Shape of Haddonfield’s knife.

Michael watched in satisfaction as the life slowly drained from the teenager’s eyes, as she grasped weakly at the large kitchen knife sticking out of the side of her neck. 

The blood shined a deep burgundy against the paleness of her skin, giving The Boogeyman a nearly artistic sense of satisfaction with his work that night. 

A sharp yank to the handle and Natalie’s body fell limply to the wood floor – no longer supported by the steel instrument of her demise – and the deep red began to pool around her head like a halo. 

Michael gave a slight frown under his mask. The wooden floor was too dark to allow the liquid to be properly appreciated in the low light of the living room; but Michael was content with work he’d done and prepared himself to begin the trek home. 

He stepped over the dead babysitter and walked towards the back door – already planning the remainder of his evening at home; clean himself up, microwave the leftovers in the fridge, do the dishes, go to bed – barely noticing the small child observing him from beside the couch.

Michael didn’t bother to close the backdoor behind himself, and in retrospect this may have been his damning mistake. 

As he silently prowled across the grass and down the alley, his ears were met with the sound of quick pattering steps coming up quickly behind him.

Turning sharply, knife raised, Michael was greeted by empty air.

Until a small weight pressed itself to his left leg.

If Michael was a particularly spiritual man, he might say it was karma that allowed this tiny child to hound his steps this night.

Once he’d pried the child from his calf he began to walk – quickly, but not too quickly – he wasn’t fleeing, and he’d be damned if he ran from a toddler (who was not at all ashamed to run after her new big best friend), but power-walking away from the scene of a crime was just good sense – it had nothing to do with the miniature menace approaching with arms outstretched… Nope. 

Michael made sure to take a more circuitous route than normal in order to return to the home you shared – in order to throw the police off his trail of course.

He was definitely NOT concerned that the one tailing party he had acquired seemed to easily slip through gates and under fences – and annoyingly (impressively) through a dog-door – in hot pursuit. 

It wasn’t until he reached the back gate to your house that he began to feel true annoyance at his small shadow. 

Turning to face the small human (probably a girl, if the annoyingly pink bows in her obnoxiously blonde hair were any indication), Michael raised his bloody knife in a threatening gesture.

The girl giggled.

Michael made a shoo-ing motion with his hands.

The girl waved back at him.

Letting out a nearly soundless sigh, Michael turned and stomped up the steps and into the house; Not at all surprised to hear a light, uneven step following him up into the light of the kitchen.

**Now…**

“Wow. Karma’s really making you it’s B-I-T-C-H tonight, isn’t it Michael?”

You couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped your mouth at your gigantic boyfriends exasperated sigh – you were half-expecting him to put his hands on his hip and shake his head at you.

“MY-MY!”

The little girl exclaimed loudly, making you both gaze down at her in shock.

She clapped her hands and giggled before pointing straight at Michael and repeating “MY-MY!!”

You nearly howled with laughter as Michael Myers (or, now, My-My to all three year-old girls in the vicinity), pressed a hand to his masked forehead, and angrily walked back up the stairs.

You continued to laugh at your boyfriends retreating figure. 

“Wait! My-My, come back!! We need to figure out what to do with her!!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! All prompts and writings come from 'slash-em-up' on tumblr. If you enjoy stabby boys, please come hang out with us!!


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